


Take Your Feelings To Work Day

by tricklesnitz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: (it's brief), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17004093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricklesnitz/pseuds/tricklesnitz
Summary: A brief slip-up in the office has Ryan finding his soulmate. It's not like the movies.





	Take Your Feelings To Work Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Waffle-o (XylB)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/gifts).



> Happy Secret Santa TJ!!!

Ryan doesn’t expect his soulmate saying his name to feel like a sudden wave of nausea.

They all had nicknames: Gav, Mikey, Lil J, Rye-bread. Everyone save Geoff and Jack--who already knew they were each other’s soulmates--had something to call each other so they weren’t using names willy nilly around the office. Most people did, it was gauche to call each other by name otherwise.

Sometimes names threatened to slip from his tongue, though. He practiced names laying in bed in the dead of night, whispering  _ Gavin _ ,  _ Michael _ ,  _ Jeremy _ into the air of his dark bedroom, just to see what they’d feel like rolling off his tongue. But the morning afterwards, after privately calling people by their full, real, names, there were close calls. He didn’t want to be rude, even on accident.

He wonders if the others did the same. That was definitely a weird thing to ask someone. “Do you ever practice saying people’s names?” Right. Like they ever really did that like him.

“Mornin’, buddy,” Geoff greets, clapping him on the shoulder as he sinks into his chair. “How’s it going?”

“I could use coffee,” Ryan says, dragging a hand down his face. “Didn’t sleep well.”

“You know you could’ve gone to the kitchen to get some before coming in here, right?” Still, Geoff nudges his own coffee towards Ryan’s desk. Ryan reaches over the superglued diet Coke and takes it gratefully.

“That’s a whole different building,” he says, cradling the still warm mug to his chest. “Geoff, I’m  _ lazy _ ,” he whines. “It’s  _ raining _ .” He sips from the mug. It’s nowhere near sweet enough, but Ryan welcomes the bitter warmth instead of freezing cold carbonation.

The door bangs open. “God, that’s cold fucking rain,” Michael says, shaking droplets out of his hair. “This is Texas, the least it could do is warm up a little,” he complains, stopping over Gavin’s desk to run a hand over his hair and squeeze freezing drips from the strands. They splatter noisily on his chair.

Jeremy comes in next, clutching his jacket tight around him and visibly clenching his jaw.

“You good?” Geoff asks, peeking over his screen.

“It’s fucking cold,” Jeremy says, teeth chattering. He hunches into his seat.

“Come on, Lil J,” Michael says. “You’re from Boston. It should be no big deal.”

“Shut up,” Jeremy whines. “Not everyone from New England is immune to cold.” Ryan watches Jeremy and Michael banter and sips Geoff’s coffee, awash with fondness for this group. Gavin stumbles in, moments later, showering Michael in raindrops in retaliation for his chair.

After they settle down and Jack joins them, Geoff reaches for his coffee mug with impatient grabby hands. Ryan hands it back.

“We have a GTA to film first, so get ready for that,” Jack says. Geoff nods.

Ryan listens to the shuffle of setup around him before sliding his headphones on.

The game goes as smoothly as expected--that is to say, it doesn’t.

After a point trying to decipher confusing rules and speeding up meeting together so the game can start over, Ryan starts to get bored. He’s surrounded by virtual Lads while Jack and Geoff bicker on their way to the mountain.

He draws his gun and swings it to point at each of them, giggling happily at their immediate reactions. “Bip!” he crows, popping Jeremy.

“ _ Ryan _ !” Jeremy shouts, then stops dead and claps a hand over his mouth.

Ryan’s laugh sticks in his throat. His stomach lurches. A cold sweat prickles over the back of his neck and his forehead.

Jeremy is his soulmate.

His stomach  _ roils _ .

Ryan’s ears are ringing.

“Oh, shit,” he hears Geoff say distantly. “Rye? You okay? Buddy?” Ryan swallows thickly. His tongue feels like lead and cotton. He tastes bile.

This wasn’t what movies said finding your soulmate felt like.

Sure, it was  _ they say your name and you know _ , but it was also supposed to feel  _ nice _ , and not like one wrong move could have Ryan throwing up breakfast all over his desk. It was supposed to be sunshine and butterflies. Not gross and sweaty.

“Someone get a trash can!” Michael hollers, and Ryan knows he’s gone visibly white and clammy.

Jack turns him carefully and shoves the trash can into his hands. Someone else is hovering over him. The last thing he sees before subjecting himself to a vision filled with nothing but can liner is Jeremy, sitting at his desk and looking stricken.

He leans over the trash can and listens to Jack and Geoff coaching him to breathe through it.  _ Was it this bad for them, too? _ he can’t help but wonder.

Ryan retches. “Oh, no,” Geoff says, backing off. 

Breakfast doesn’t taste nearly as good the second time.

However, the relief is immediate.

Ryan sits back, breathing out a long sigh. Jack offers a tissue. Ryan takes it and wipes his face. He would feel better than he already does if he could just… stop jittering. His teeth won’t stop chattering. It’s a little humiliating, if he’s being honest.

Instead of focusing on it, he shuts his eyes and lets his head fall against the headrest of his chair.

The door opens, then shuts.

Ryan peels his eyes open. Jeremy’s gone.

Figures.

“What just  _ happened _ ?” Michael asks. He rubs Gavin’s back as Gavin hunches over a trash can of his own.

Ryan shuts his eyes again.

“There isn’t really… a word for it yet,” Jack says, hesitantly. “But there’s no way around that we’re going to have to cut this.” He sighs. “Geoff threw up too, when it happened for us.” Geoff makes an offended noise but doesn’t dispute it.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Michael says, slowly understanding.

“Yeah.” Geoff drums his fingers against his desk. “How ya feelin’?” he directs at Ryan.

“Better, I think,” Ryan croaks.

Gavin gags, then yelps in protest as Michael thumps his back. Ryan can’t help but grin, glad that even with this they can act like nothing’s out of the ordinary.

The door opens and shuts again. Ryan keeps his eyes shut, figuring it’s Matt or Sarah or Steffie, until a freezing hand with an equally freezing can touches his face.

“I brought you a Sprite, Battle Buddy,” Jeremy says. “I looked everywhere. Ended up having to go all the way to the kitchen.”

Ryan smiles weakly. “Thanks, Battle Buddy,” he replies, reaching up to take the Sprite.

“Alright,” Jack says, turning back to his computer. “I’ll send a note to Larry, he can pass along to cut this. Let’s reset.”

Ryan cracks open the Sprite, offering another smile to Jeremy when he pulls a bottle of water out of his jacket pocket and sets it on the desk too, and listens to Jack clack away at his keyboard.

Geoff rolls towards him, claps him on the shoulder again, and gives it a squeeze. Ryan nods, understanding the implied  _ are you okay? _ , and the weight of Geoff’s hand disappears. The rest of that recording goes smoothly.

And so does the next, and the next, until Geoff stands up and stretches. His back cracks noisily. “It’s lunch time, assholes!” he crows. He meets eyes with Jack and motions, and Jack stands up. They leave the room together, hand in hand.

Michael and Gavin leave together as well, bickering loudly about deciding between Torchy’s and P. Terry’s.

Ryan finishes the water and regrets bringing a lunch; he doesn’t want it anymore. He’s not particularly hungry, given that now he has about an hour to really let the fact that his soulmate is across the desks from him sink in.

Said person breaks his tenuous grasp on concentration. “Hey, uh, Rye, how are you feeling?” Jeremy asks hesitantly.

“I’m okay,” he says. “Better than this morning, definitely.”

Jeremy gets up and comes around to sit in Geoff’s chair. He scoots sideways to Ryan and reaches out to touch his arm. “Did you, um. Eat something bad this morning or…” He pauses, licks his lips. Bites his bottom lip and worries it between his teeth. “Was it because I said  _ Ryan _ instead of  _ Rye _ ?”

This time around, his name coming from Jeremy feels pleasantly fuzzy. It feels  _ good _ . He likes it.

But Jeremy looks like he’s in trouble. He looks scared, head ducked and face somber.

“The second one. You said my name,” Ryan clarifies. Jeremy looks up at him from under his eyelashes. “You’re…” Now  _ Ryan _ is scared. He covers Jeremy’s hand with his own. “We--You’re my soulmate,” he admits, swallowing down the flub. There was no guarantee he would be Jeremy’s soulmate.

It was only realistic.

“Do you wanna say my name?” Jeremy blurts out, clasping Ryan’s hand between both of his. “See if you’re mine?”

Ryan laughs softly. Of course Jeremy would want to return the favor. “Sure.” He glances around the room. There’s gotta be some dramamine, or that weird antiemesis medicine Lindsay keeps around in the first aid kit for some reason. “Want me to count you down so you’re ready?”

“Um, sure, unless you want to surprise me with it like I did to you. Turnabout’s fair play and all that.”

“I want you to be ready. Maybe you won’t puke if you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

Jeremy visibly steels himself, shifting his grip on Ryan’s hand so their fingers are laced. Ryan offers his other hand and Jeremy laces those fingers together too. He closes his eyes and nods once.

“Three… two… one… Ready, Jeremy?” Ryan watches him carefully. Sees the sweat break out over his forehead. Watches him go pale. Jeremy grips his hands tighter. He breathes, deep and slow. Ryan feels his hands tremble underneath his own.

He matches his breathing to Jeremy’s and waits for color to come back to his cheeks. The realistic side of him had expected nothing to happen, but this reaction is promising. Jeremy cracks his eyes open. “We,” he breathes. “We match!” His voice is giddy, and his smile, albeit shaky, could outshine the sun.

Ryan squeezes his hands. “We match,” he replies.


End file.
